


All I Have To Do

by likelyvalentine (nokkakona)



Series: Dream, Dream, Dream [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Demisexual Nick Valentine, F/M, Gen 3 Nick, Memory Alteration, Memory Den, Somehow Also Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8108389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nokkakona/pseuds/likelyvalentine
Summary: Nick gets trapped in a dream during a session with Dr. Amari. The Sole Survivor has to go in after him, only to get trapped by the temptation of the world Nick's mind has created- a world in which he becomes human. Not a true Gen3!Nick story. Ultimately supports Nick just as he is, holes and all.





	1. Do Androids Dream?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a neuro major i love (and hate) the memory den (and synths) so here, have this

The letter smelled like cigars and century old perfume. It had arrived in the hands of a courier whose pockets were clinking with caps paid ahead to expedite delivery, and the looping handwriting on the front told North who had sent it without needing to ask. Irma never wrote unless it was with bad news. Her thoughts had first turned to Kent, and she had scanned the letter for signs of his name before reading the whole thing- and instead found the name Nick Valentine.

North arrived in Goodneighbor at the rare hour when the entire town was asleep. Even the Memory Den felt quiet. Irma greeted her with tired eyes and a worried smile. "I wasn't sure you'd make it so fast," she said. "You'd better go on down, darling. I'll wake Amari."

The back room was shadowy, the only light coming from a lantern in the corner. A familiar old trenchcoat was slung over the arm of the couch. North almost missed the figure in the lounger, fedora pulled down over his eyes, chin touching his chest. Relief spread through her. "Nick," she said, approaching the glass. The lid wasn't shut; the lounger wasn't on. But Nick still didn't respond. "Nick?"

She pushed his hat away from his eyes. Open, but dark- no familiar yellow light. Her chest tightened. When she said his name again, her voice wavered. "Nick?"

"North? Is that you?" North scrambled to her feet. Amari, her loose night dress ruffled, stood in the doorway, frowning. "Just the woman I've been waiting to see."

North barely waited until Amari had finished her sentence to speak. "Is Nick okay?" she asked, keeping her eyes fixed on his.

Amari sighed. "I'm afraid not."

North's blood ran cold.

"Detective Valentine came in a few days ago for a memory session," Amari said. "But once the replay ended, I wasn't able to pull him out. He appears to be stuck in some kind of feedback loop."

Amari's words sounded like they were coming from far away. "Feedback loop?" North mumbled. Her head was spinning.

"This isn't unusual- memory regress is unfortunately common, and why we're so selective about our clients. Fixing it involves linking two minds- Valentine needs to be convinced to wake up."

The words drew North from her stupor. "And you want _me_ to do that?"

"Usually Irma is the second mind, but Nick's hold on this... memory, or whatever it is..." Amari pushed her glasses further up the bridge of her nose, glancing away from North. "Well, it's not like anything I've seen before."

"This is the Memory Den, Amari. If it's not a memory, what is it?" North asked, a frown etching itself between her eyebrows.

"I'm not sure what he's experiencing. Unless I'm more out of the loop than I realised, the things he's seeing never happened."

"Like- like what?"

"Well, for one, I'm relatively sure I never performed a body transfer on Detective Valentine."

"Body transfer?" North blinked. "Like what we did to Curie?"

"Er... sort of. The details are hazy- Nick never had a strong grasp on my line of work. He's... filling in the blanks as he goes."

"So... he's dreaming?"

"Memories are delicate things. Wishful thinking, denial, any sort of emotional processes can alter them. It's possible that what he is experiencing is an altered memory, or it's possible that it's a new narrative, something that simply draws on memories he already has."

"So... dreaming."

Amari sighed. "It's a little more complicated than that. But yes, I suppose." The lines in her face softened for a moment, and a hesitant look crossed her expression. "North, there's one more thing that seems to be characteristic of these... dreams, if you must call them that." 

"What?" Images of Jenny, half-formed ideas of what the woman must have looked like, and Eddie Winter, face smooth and young, flooded North's mind. 

Amari pursed her lips. "Well... unless I'm more out of the loop than I thought, I don't believe Mr. Valentine has had any recent forays into romance, no?" 

In the brief moment of complete silence that followed, North swore she could hear the blood rushing to her cheeks, as if Amari had somehow caught her in a lie. "No," she answered truthfully. "No."

North reached out and took Nick's hand. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing the bare plating on his arms. She traced the seam of his wrist with her thumb. His fingers twitched. North wondered if she had woken him up, but no other part of him moved. Just his hand, curling tighter around hers.

She sighed. "How do I help?"

Amari gestured toward the empty pod. "Sit."

North wrung her hands together. "This is- well, safe?" she asked.

"You won't die. Probably."

The light on the pod's screen fritzed, the words _Please Stand By_ blinking in and out of a pixelated haze of grey. North's fingers unfurled from around Nick's wrist. "I'll do it," she said. Amari nodded, and North climbed into the pod.

"I'll have to rewind it. Back to the moment it all began. Right after Nick awakens from this... transfer." Amari's fingers clattered across the keyboard. "Just relax, North."

The screen went white just as North's vision faded to black. Amari's voice echoed in her ears as she slid into the clutches of the programming. "That's it, relax- hold on, that's too relaxed. What happened to the lucidity suspenders? North? North, I need you to listen very carefully..."


	2. Yes, But Not Of Electric Sheep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is accidentally a soap opera. dialogue heavy, feelings heavy. also worth mentioning that this is pre-far harbor, so nick's perspective on himself is still base game.

North awoke behind shut eyes. Someone was touching her hair, untangling the knots in her curls with warm fingers. The smell of cigarette smoke filtered through the room, and she could hear the low whisper of someone breathing.

"You awake, doll?"

North blew a muted sigh through her nose. "Now I am," she mumbled, lifting her cheek off of the memory lounger. Her eyes flickered open. Nick's hand was still gripped tightly in hers. In his other one, he held a cigarette, burnt almost all the way to the brown.

"Morning," he said, bringing the cigarette to his lips. Smoke puffed out of his nose.

North pulled her hand away from his. "Is it?" she mumbled, pressing her palms against her eyes. 

"You've been out all night from what I've heard. Only just woke up half an hour ago myself."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fit as a fiddle."

"No pain?"

"None at all."

"Good." North smacked the side of his leg. 

"That'll leave a bruise," Nick said, rubbing the spot where North had hit him. "Yeah, I guess I owe you an apology. North, I'm sorry. I just didn't want you worrying, like you do."

North heaved herself to her feet, muscles still sleep-heavy. Dirt from the floor clung to her jeans. "I worried anyway."

Nick swung his legs over the side of the lounger. The bones in his back cracked, and he groaned. "Guess this body's not used to sitting for so long." He held his hands out in front of him and stretched his fingers apart.

"Why did you do it, Nick?" she asked. Her eyes flickered over his figure: slender shoulders, a cleft in his chin, warm eyes tinged with guilt. A stranger with her partner's voice. "I thought- weren't you happy after Winter?" She kept her gaze fixed on his hands. The rest of him was too much.

"You don't have to be so concerned all the time, you know that?"

"Nick..."

"All right, all right... Hell, I was embarrassed. That's why I've been keeping this on the down low."

"Embarrassed?" The word felt thick on her tongue.

Nick drew a ragged sigh. "You asked me how I expected to feel after we finally put Winter in the ground. I thought I'd be a new man." He chuckled. "But therein lies the rub. I could put a bullet in Winter's brain a hundred times, but it wouldn't make me a real boy." His smile faltered. "I'm still just a- a thing. Some forgotten prototype the Institute couldn't be bothered to shut down before they tossed it in a garbage heap."

Dust swirled around his face, casting tiny dim shadows under the overhead lights. North forced herself to breathe. "You're not a puppet," she said, fighting to keep her voice soft and gentle.

She didn't realise she had taken a couple of steps forward until Nick reached out and touched her hair. "I know I wasn't exactly made out of wood, but... well, the Institute didn't spring for much when they scraped me together." He rolled a strand of her hair between his fingers. His hands smelled like smoke. "I miss things I've never even felt. Things I only know about from memories that aren't even mine."

North thought of the empty bottle of bourbon sitting on his desk; his bed under the loft, the one with no blankets; the black tie and jacket in dresser at the foot of the stairs. Things he never used. Things he didn't need.

"It's hard to feel like anything but a... a machine playing dress-up," he continued. The smile returned to his face, but it was resigned. "I got no illusions about what I really am. I'm still a construct. But now I don't have to pretend."

Nick tilted his head, expression turning from defeated to concerned. "Oh, now, there's no need for that. What's wrong?" he asked. North hadn't felt the tears welling until they began to slide down her face. She pulled away, wiping a thumb underneath her eye.

"Nothing. I just," she bit her lip, "I could have helped. Couldn't I have?"

Nick blinked. "You know," he said, lips quirking into a little smile, "for such a sharp tack, you got a knack for missing the obvious." He wrung his hands together. "All those things I do to make myself feel more human- they don't make me feel half as real as knowing I've got you at my side."

"But it wasn't enough?" she murmured. "You still..."

Nick lifted his hand to the back of his neck. "I, uh... couldn't ask you to be tied down to an old machine."

Nervous warmth bubbled up in North's chest. She didn't realise she was staring until Nick frowned, waving a hand in front of her.

"You get hit in the head? I can relate." The joke fell flat.

"When you say tied down..." North's mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. "What do you mean?"

"I want us to be partners. And hell, if we wake up to each other in the morning, well," he cleared his throat, "that's just a bonus."

North couldn't find any words to respond, and the silence tightened around her throat like piano wire. Nick's face fell with every second of quiet.

"I'd understand if- well, you know. If I'm making you uncomfortable, all you gotta do is--"

North shook her head. "No, no. God, no. You're not. I just... I never thought..." The wire loosened. She sighed. "I liked you before, Nick. I like you now. You could download yourself into a deathclaw and I'd still like you."

Nick chuckled. "Deathclaw probably wouldn't be too happy about that." He touched her shoulder. "Come on, doll. Let's blow this joint."


End file.
